Beverly Abigail
by Figmentated
Summary: Mort’s daughter is so far and after fourteen years of being away from her is bringing past insanity back to him. He needs someone to hold and is overjoyed when she appears on his “mudstep”, but she’s not what he expects. STORY IS MUCH BETTER THAN
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer: I do not own Stephen King or David Keopp's Secret Window.  
  
A/N: Sup!! I'm so excited! I've been planning this story forever. Oh btw= I kinda changed how the end of the movie was. I made it a bit different. And this is a VERY rangey song fic. It's not even a song fic really. It'll probably only have around one or two lines of Staind's new song, "Zoe Jane" in each chapter. Lines in italics are lines from the song. Later ---jamie!  
  
Summary: Mort's daughter is so far from him and after fourteen years of being away from his own daughter is bringing past insanity back to him. He needs someone to hold and is overjoyed when she appears on his "mudstep", but she's not what he expects.  
  
Here we go....  
  
**Chapter One**  
  
It was only a month after my daughter, Beverly Abigail Rainey, was born that I'd found out that her mother had put her up for adoption.  
  
The phone rang, awakening me from another painful dream of mine. I felt around for it exhaustedly, and managed to croak out an answer.  
  
"Mort? It's Lindsay. I just needed to tell you that I put Beverly up for adoption."  
  
I almost dropped the phone in emotional agony. "WHAT?! Why? Why didn't you give me custody? Do you want our child to live with a foster family? Why couldn't I have taken her in? Why, Lindsay?"  
  
She sighed and somehow I could hear her tears fall. "Oh, Mort, you know just as well as I do that you aren't exactly capable of taking care of a month-old baby girl."  
  
"Yes, I can! Yes, I can! I really can!"  
  
"No. You can't."  
  
I guess those were two words I never thought I would hear my own girl say to my own face. She'd always been encouraging to me. Whenever I said I couldn't do something, she would pick me up. But everything changes after you have a baby.  
  
I really tried to say something but my eyes began to water and it was choking me up. I began to wish I could really do something without shedding a single tear. "Okay. Okay. Just let her live her life with complete strangers. Let her grow up to be just like me! Let her go INSANE!" I dropped the phone back on the receiver and resisted the temptation to crack my jaw. Whenever I opened my mouth too wide, it became dislocated. Nothing major though. It just hurts for a while until I crack back into place.  
  
Amy never made me do that like Lindsay did.  
  
I never really figured out what happened to Amy. Sweet Amy...sweet, sweet Amy....I woke up one morning and she was lying in my yard, blood and death scribbled across her body. The only thing I could do at that moment was scream. So I did. I knew no one could or would hear me, so I screamed. I let her lie there for a while and I went back inside the cabin and found a new ending to my story, "Secret Window." Corn...corn...  
  
I rearranged Amy's adorable little garden into a crop field of corn. Then, in the midst of it all, I buried her. It was one of the hardest things I ever had to do. I had to bury my wife. I also had to bury my dog. I also had to get braces. I mean, ow. I got them removed half a month after I got them. I got too much corn stuck in them. I love corn. It's my favorite food now. I just love it.  
  
Anyway, I met Lindsay at the post office. She took the place of Amy, the redheaded girl who used to work at the post office. No, not _my_ Amy. _My_ Amy is dead. I had to bury _my_ Amy, remember? Anyway, I dated Lindsay for about seven months until things got pretty serious. We went out to my buddy, Derek's party one night and got really, really drunk. From what I can remember, we staggered back to my place, had sex, and after that, I guess we kind of drifted apart. I still don't know if I truly loved her. For all I know, she could have basically just been some slut I picked up. I don't really know that much right now. I don't even know if I'll ever find the answers to all these questions I have. Probably not. I have a lot of questions, but I can guarantee you, if Amy were here right now, she would have all my answers. She was my answers. She was my answers to my questions, my problems, and my prayers.  
  
But...now she's gone.  
  
Well, right now, all I can say is my heart is breaking. I want my little girl. I want her so much. There's really nothing I want more right now than a simple family that I can live a simple life with. I thought Beverly could give that to me, but once again, I lost everything due to a girl. Due to Lindsay, I lost my only child. Due to Amy, I lost everything. That's why I'm staying alone for the rest of my life. That's why I'm giving up. Right here, right now, I've decided that life isn't worth living if you can't share it with anyone you love. Yeah, I loved Amy- more than anything. And even though I have no idea what she looks like, no idea what her cry is like, what her laugh is like, or what looking in her eyes is like, I love my daughter.  
  
I walked upstairs and flopped down at my desk. I open my documents folder and was not surprised to find it blank. Right then, the phone rang again, but I let it. Then I noticed that the answering machine had picked it up. Why did I have to buy that damn thing?  
  
"Honey...Mort, honey, please pick up. I'm really sorry. I just know how you are and I don't think you'd be able to survive as a single parent. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to make you angry. I really didn't." She sniffed and I knew she was getting a little depressed about all this. I wish I didn't feel so guilty right now.  
  
I ran downstairs, almost falling flat on my face as I turned the corner at the bottom of the stairs. I picked up and not meaning to, but almost yelling into the phone. "Lindsay, I love you! Okay, but I love this child more. You know why?! Because she won't leave me! She won't just take the love of my life and run!"  
  
"I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry!" Tears poured; I could just tell.  
  
I sighed, thinking so hard, I was producing my own headache. I ran my fingers through my thick hair, which was darkening again; I needed to do my roots....Wait, what am I doing?! I just told Lindsay I loved her! No, no! I don't love her! Amy is the only girl I will ever love! Ever. No one can take her place and I know Lindsay didn't try to, but, well, she did.  
  
"Lindsay...it's okay. Okay? Please...please don't cry. Don't cry."  
  
She attempted to steady her sobs, and I stood there with the green cord phone held to my ear, just listening.  
  
Lindsay then gathered her breath and said in almost a whisper, "I'm sorry, Mort."  
  
She hung up.  
  
My mind was splitting. I didn't know what to think. Do I really love her? Do I really want this child to be mine- all mine? Well, I already know the answers. No...and...yes. See, I knew Amy could give me my answers.  
  
I walked outside into my crop field and looked around for fresh ears of corn. I stepped over a patch of soft topsoil, and knew this was the spot where my wife was buried. I pushed up my glasses between the lenses and turned my head to look at the shovel that was placed against the house. It was then that a strange feeling came over me....I wanted to dig. I wanted to dig her back up. That was my wife. That was the love of my life underneath my feet. I ran toward the house, grabbed the shovel, and ran back, not bothering to be aware of my precious and fragile crops. I rammed it in the ground, hitting something solid. I became light-headed and fought back tears. Then I plowed topsoil out of the spot but the solid material I had felt had only been rock. I dug my way up and only found more rock. She was gone.  
  
Then it hit me. I remembered everything as if an enchantment or spell was put upon me.  
  
_Well, I want you to notice...  
_  
It was me. I killed her. I am a murderer. 


	2. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: I do not own Stephen King or David Keopp's Secret Window.  
  
Here we go....  
  
**Chapter Two  
**  
Fourteen years passed and I still couldn't help but hate the person I was becoming. I hadn't heard anything from Lindsay and I really wished I could just receive some kind of communication from the mother of my child or just my child herself. If I'd calculated correctly, her fourteenth birthday would have been nine days ago. I was the father of a teenager and I hadn't even seen her face.  
  
I brought my laptop into my bedroom, which was rare. I hated my bedroom; it was so enclosed. It made me feel...schizophrenic. But by now, I'd learned to like that feeling. I liked knowing that nobody knew what I was doing up here. If somebody showed up at my mudstep, I could shoot them right then and there, and nobody would find out. Yes, my mudstep. I call it my mudstep because I really don't have a doorstep. My house is just surrounded by mud. It would be plain old dirt, but it rains too much up here, and there's nothing I enjoy more than the rain. It splatters atop the roof and sometimes, and it feels as if it will fall in any second. It was scary, but the rain was worth it. The rain was worth it to be scared.  
  
Hell, I can't even understand myself anymore.  
  
Well anyway, I started typing away at my pathetic attempt at a book. There was no way anyone would take my publication offers, but still, I write. I write because that's what I do. I have nothing else to do anyway.  
  
My fingers became tired and for some reason, I was trembling. I noticed so after I lifted my hands up off the keyboard. See, I really do scare myself. I added my finishing touches and revisions to the chapter, and right as I hit the final key, the phone that sat next to my bed did something it hadn't done in fourteen years.  
  
It rang.  
  
I stared at it as if it were a monster in my closet. "Who the hell...?" I began asking myself but stopped after it rang three times. I picked it up, trembling harder than I was before. "H-Hello?"  
  
"Is this Mort Rainey?" It was a man with an odd kind of accent.  
  
"Yes..." I replied unsteadily.  
  
"Um, we're going to need you to come by the Tashmore Medical, well, as soon as possible. Is that a problem at all?"  
  
Okay, thoughts that were going through my head right now: WHAT? WHAT? GO INTO TOWN? ARE YOU INSANE? Oh, wait that's me. WHY? IS THERE SOMETHING WRONG WITH ME? AM I GONNA DIE? NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO! NO WAY! ABSOLUTELY NOT! YOU ALL HATE ME DOWN THERE!  
  
"No, no problem at all," I replied dazedly. "Goodbye."  
  
"Goodbye, Mr. Rainey."  
  
We both hung up in unison.  
  
Oh my God, I really am twisted....

[THE NEXT MORNING]

The sunlight hurt my eyes.  
  
I drove up to the clinic, which was only three buildings down from Lindsay's post office. Well, what was once her post office, at least. You see, a few years ago, some psycho went off on a Sunday morning when the post office was closed and everyone was in church. He went to the post office, lit a match, and burned it down. Nobody ever figured out who did it, either. He's not from this town. He's really far away, physically and mentally. I heard he'd lost everything at one point in his life.  
  
Poor guy.  
  
But, hey.  
  
I'm not one to feel sorry for myself.  
  
Bars were nailed securely over the windows and doors of the under-sized hospital. I got out of my car and went inside. The walls were a pale green color. I looked around for the guy with the weird accent, painting an image of what he looked like in my mind. Kind of old with receding hair...blah, blah, blah. That's pretty much how I pictured everyone from this town. I didn't really care anymore.  
  
Suddenly a man came up to me. Actually, I wouldn't even consider him a man. He was just a kid, probably eighteen or nineteen. He also had a full head of blond hair.  
  
"Mr. Rainey," he said in a fearful kind of tone, "We have your prescription."  
  
Huh?  
  
"Wait, wait. I-I didn't order any kind of prescription."  
  
Then he said while writing nonsense things down on a clipboard, "Oh, that's right. Your girlfriend did. A few months ago."  
  
_To notice when I'm not around..._  
  
I thought I might as well just have a heart attack. "My-my girlfriend?"  
  
"Yes. Lindsay, I think her name is."  
  
"I know her name, thank you very much."  
  
"Very sorry, sir," he said blankly. "Well, she came by a while back and said she wanted to order a prescription for you."  
  
"Th-that's it? She didn't say anything else?"  
  
He looked up from his clipboard and stared ahead, trying to remember. He may have hair on top of his head, but there wasn't much in it. "Oh, yes. She said your daughter would be coming by your house in the next two months. And that was a month ago so..."  
  
I didn't even bother to listen to the rest of what he had to say. I didn't care. I couldn't believe this. I was going to see my daughter. My little girl. My angel I'd waited to meet ever since I heard she was alive and breathing. I was going to see her.  
  
I snapped back and saw that the doctor was staring at me, obviously waiting for me to respond.  
  
"Sorry. Um...what-what did she prescribe for me exactly?"  
  
"Phenobarbital," he said, checking his list again.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Insanity medication," he answered.  
  
My eyes shaped themselves in an unusual way. I threw open the door to leave, but the young doctor laid a hand on my arm. "Please, sir. I really suggest you take them."  
  
I thought. Well, if Beverly was going to come to see me, I might not want these pink circles around my eyes and this pale, pale skin. I didn't want the medication. I really didn't. But I chose to anyway. I would do anything for my daughter.  
  
After receiving the medication, I stuff it in my pocket and hurried out to my car. The sunlight burned my eyes again. I winced and drove home.  
  
I was instructed to take three pills each morning so I stored them away in the drawer by my laptop (which I'd returned to its original space.) I didn't like writing in my bedroom at all.)) I didn't want the next morning to arrive, but any second, my daughter could arrive at my door, and I wanted her to see what her dad has become. I would never want her to think she has some kind of freaky father. Even though, I know she thinks that. Well, Lindsay must at least. I mean, she prescribed me insanity medication, for God's sake. She must have somehow figured out how I was doing up here. And it apparently I'm not doing so good. But I never noticed. And when you live all alone, it only matters what you think, not to sound conceited though. But when you come to me on the list, you might find that I don't really find living alone that enjoyable anymore. I want to be with someone. Anyone. Anyone I love. Maybe suicide is the answer to all this. Maybe, just maybe...  
  
I opened the bottom drawer of my desk and located the B.B. gun my father had given me when I was eight. I'd used up all my bullets on hunting out here, but one's left. One bullet is left. Now all I have to do is figure out where to shoot it.  
  
Please find me, Beverly. Hurry. 


	3. Chapter Three

Disclaimer: I do not own Stephen King or David Keopp's Secret Window.  
  
A/N: I don't know but the rating may change due to this chapter....Just to warn yall....  
  
Here we go....  
  
**Chapter Three**  
  
It rained non-stop for the next week. I mean, I loved the rain, but I couldn't go outside or into town because well, it's weird. When it rains, my car drowns and it doesn't cooperate with me very well. So now I'm stuck inside until the clouds are finally out of it.  
  
And yes, I've been a good boy and have been taking my medication every morning. They made me a little drowsy, and I couldn't go down to the market to pick up more soda to keep me awake either.  
  
So right now, I'm sitting on the couch on my back, staring up at the broken ceiling. I actually don't feel so good. I prayed that there weren't side effects to the medication. I didn't want to be sick anymore. I just wanted to be normal. But...isn't that why I got the medication in the first place?  
  
Oh, now I'm just confused. Oh well.  
  
I went into the back room behind the kitchen and sat on a chair next to the window. The chair was one of the few things that were even in the room. The only other things in here were a couch, and an avocado-colored half- refrigerator. I tried to remember what was in it. Maybe money. Ha, no way. I used to store extra cash in my freezer, but that was when I was just a kid. I did a lot of stupid things when I was a kid....  
  
[FLASHBACK]  
  
The birds scattered like they usually did when I came outside to feed the dog. The damn birds were always eating remains of a crashed or policed-out party outside.  
  
Carlie stood in the doorway, watching me, wearing one of my long, football jerseys. I'd completely forgotten what had happened the previous night, but it really didn't matter. I had this hot girl standing next to me, wearing my jersey and probably not much else, who I'd probably gotten in bed with me last, but you know what my buddy Jack can do to me.  
  
I stood up after pouring an amount of dog food in Chico's bowl and looked at her. "Honey, I thought you went home," I said, trying to think of something to say to her that wouldn't show what a nerd I really was.  
  
"Why would I go home?" She put on one of her sweet pouty faces and looked back at me, obviously planning what to do with me next.  
  
"Well," I coughed. "It's almost the end of our senior year, and um, sorry to break it to you, but...we have finals tomorrow. But you didn't hear it from me."  
  
She giggled and stepped toward me. "Yeah...but don't you find your awesome college parties way better than the stupid finals our stupid professors can give us?"  
  
"Well, yeah, but-"  
  
She kissed me. I guess this was when I realized that Carlie didn't see me as the geek I was. She thought I was something else. Every girl I ever dated did that. After this amount of time, I was sick of it. I wanted people to stop seeing through me. Just look at me without laser vision for once. See me as just a guy who doesn't want you all over me like this. Stop...seeing...through me.  
  
[PRESENT]  
  
I tried to forget that for so long. So long I've wanted that college memory of mine to just drift away, but it never did. Whenever I sat alone too long, I seem to leave my own body. And every time I do, that memory comes back. Maybe people still do see through me. Maybe that morning in the backyard of my beat-down apartment never really happened at all. Maybe it was just a repetitive dream....But was there symbolism?  
  
It had only been months after I broke up with Carlie that I met Amy. Oh, God. It was so incredible, so perfect how her simple name can bring me such pain. Not perfect as in good, just perfect. It just made everything fit. She...she was the only one who could do that to me.  
  
But...I've given up. I've given up on love. I've given up on life. Love's yelled at me too many times, and life has beaten me up from my head to my toes. There's too much effort involved to keep up with life. Everyone says that once you're my age, it's just smooth sailing from here on out, but it's not like that. It's just not like that. Sure I miss loving someone, but...that's why my daughter's coming, right? Right, Mort. She's coming to save you. She's coming to rescue me from the mud of the lake I've drowned and fainted in.  
  
Wow. That's why I feel like I've hit rock bottom. I've drowned.  
  
"Stop..." I said quietly to myself. "Just stop it, dumbass. Think about your daughter. Think about your baby girl...."  
  
I didn't want to think about what I was thinking about because I know myself too well; if I keep thinking about it, I'll do it. I really will. I'll drown myself.  
  
Maybe it was some kind of sign from God that it was raining right now. Because when it's raining, the lake is usually below ten degrees cold. I'd probably freeze to death before I even get to say I drowned myself. Not that I'd want to tell people that. I mean, I don't suffer from attention craving or anything like that. I don't even know what I suffer from; I just know it's not that.  
  
I got up and was about to walk back to the front room, but stopped and opened the avocado-colored fridge. I rolled my eyes at myself as I found several bottles of Jack Daniels left over from a long, long time ago. I guess I really haven't been back here in a while.  
  
Well, I decided it best to discard these worthless bottles of alcohol considering I would have a teenager staying with me, and only God knows how she's like. She could be a sweet, innocent girl who's read the entire Bible (something I still haven't succeeded in doing), or she could be...well, I don't really want to think about this. Not that I necessarily want her to have read the whole Bible, even though it would be nice. I don't know. I confuse myself too much!  
  
For the next few hours or so, all I could think about was my little girl. I tried to picture her face, but the last person I came in face-to-face contact with was the kid at the clinic. I seriously couldn't believe that I'd forgotten what a teenager looked like.  
  
By now, boredom was killing me. I thought of what to do. What to do...what to do...  
  
Maybe I could try to write something,  
  
God, am I crazy?  
  
I'd only convinced myself that I had talent. I'm worthless. I stink at writing. It's not what I was put out on this earth to do. I was put on this earth to love Amy. And...I took that right away from myself. Yes, it was a right. It was my right to love her because she was my wife and-  
  
The doorbell rang.  
  
I'd become so caught up in my thoughts, I hadn't noticed the tears seeping out of my brown eyes. I stared at the door. Okay...I'm finally going to see my little angel.  
  
I got up slowly and reached for the doorknob. Then I opened the door very quickly and took one long, dazed look at my fourteen-year-old daughter.  
  
She stared up at me through jet black, long eyelashes that hid the depth in her deep brown eyes. Her skin glowed. Her hair was very straight, waist- length, and dirty blond. A few freckles scattered her face, which gave it depth and a variety of perspectives. Her eyes were amazing, though, surrounded by heavy black eyeliner. They were so different, no...familiar. Yes, familiar...she had my eyes.  
  
She had a gray backpack on and was carrying a blue electric guitar; she also had a number of books under her other arm.  
  
_I know that your eyes see straight through me..._  
  
"Oh, honey..." I choked out; embracing her and wrapping my arms tightly around her, I felt her eyes soak my shirt. "You're so beautiful...so beautiful..."  
  
"Hi, Dad," she mumbled into my chest, sobs pouring out of her. Her voice was soft and airy, but still had certain strength in it. I could see her strength in her beauty. You can tell just by looking at her that she's been through so much.  
  
I didn't want to let her go, but I put my arm around her shoulder and led her inside and closing the door. "I can't believe this is you...." It was all I could say. I really couldn't believe this was my daughter.  
  
I let her put her things down on the floor next to the couch, and then she just looked up at me. I really didn't know what to say, so we both kept silent, but it wasn't an awkward silence. It was more like we were both being washed and refreshed, soaking in the warmth and tenderness of the situation.  
  
_And speak to me without a sound...  
_  
And everything I'd been thinking about for the past hours, the past 122,640 hours of my life, had been erased. They didn't matter.  
  
This moment was what mattered.  
  
"So..." I said, breaking the silence. "How's life?"  
  
Her eyes became teary again. "Not so good. I couldn't imagine never being able to meet you, Dad. I mean...you-you wouldn't understand but..." She tried to stop from crying out loud, and her voice became high and pitchy. "...a girl needs her dad to be able to keep living. She-she has to know him...Mom's great, but she isn't enough. I've missed you this whole time and I never even knew who you were. Mom wouldn't show me pictures or anything....but you're my dad...so I-I love you."  
  
_I want to hold you...  
_  
I ran my fingers through her soft, damp hair. "I love you, Beverly. And I know I wasn't there for you this whole time. I know. I'm so sorry. Just please...please forgive me. Since every girl in my life disappeared, well...you've been my everything."  
  
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A/N: Oh gosh I'm crying my eyes out! Please R&R that chapter. It took a loooong time to make it just right. I don't even know if it is, but just to be forewarned, I'm really considering making this R-rated! It's just getting really emotional. And yes, I put three song lines in this chapter. See ya!! ---jamie! 


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